


When The Night Comes Drabbles

by jccreates



Category: When The Night Comes (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Falling In Love, Family Drama, Fantasy, Fluff, Kissing in the Rain, Love Confessions, Romance, Teasing, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2019-10-08 15:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17388617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jccreates/pseuds/jccreates
Summary: A collection of short fics based on When The Night Comes





	1. Wishing

Madigan was in high spirits as she made her way back towards the Wolf; she always was after an afternoon session of tea and gossip with Ezra. As she passed through the main square, she saw Omen pacing in front of the fountain, notebook in hand, stopping every few steps to observe it closely. He looked up in her direction, and raised a hand, obscuring the smile that broke out on his face.

“Hello Madi!” He greeted cheerfully. He was the only one who called her that, the only one she would let call her that. She bit her lip to keep from grinning foolishly.

“Hi!” She replied, an uncharacteristic warmth in her voice instead of the usual detachment. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to figure something out. Everyday, people come here and they throw coins into this fountain. Why do they do it? Is it an offering? To whom? It… doesn’t seem to be working.” He added softly. Another murder had happened that very week, and now that he mentioned it, the fountain seemed to be more full than usual.

“It’s sort of an offering.” Madigan explained, “They’re making a wish.”

“A wish?”

“They say that if you toss a coin into a fountain and make a wish, it will come true.”

Omen looked puzzled, “ _Who_ says that?”

“I… I don’t know, actually. It’s something I’ve heard ever since I was a little girl.” Not from her parents of course—they had thought that sort of behavior was common. But every time she went into town with her governess, she would give Madigan a coin and let her make a wish in the fountain.

“Here, let me show you.” Madigan hesitantly placed her hands on his shoulders, rotating him around. She let out a small gasp at how warm he felt under her touch, even through the layers of his clothing. She could feel the heat of his gaze on her just as strongly, and glanced up to meet it. Her breath caught in her throat and her hands slid lightly down to his chest—the warmth and tenderness in those chestnut eyes was mesmerizing.

“Okay now close your eyes,” As he followed her instruction, she let out a relieved sigh and dropped her hands, feeling as if she had awoken from a trance. “Make a wish, then throw the coin over your shoulder.”

“I wish—“

“No!” Madigan interrupted (perhaps a bit too aggressively, she realized as Omen’s eyes snapped back open alertly), “Don’t say it out loud. If you say your wish out loud, it, um, it won’t come true.” She could feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment. She wasn’t one to heed superstitions, placing her faith in things that could be proven. But there was something about Omen’s genuine enthusiasm that made her want to ensure that this went perfectly for him.

“Oh! I wouldn’t want that.” He said, a blush of his own spreading across his cheeks as his eyelids fluttered closed again. He took a slow breath and let the coin fly. Not, however, before accidentally setting the coin on fire.

“Oh… wow.” Madigan exclaimed, watching the burning metal soar towards the fountain. It hit the water with a loud plunk followed by the hiss of steam.

“Did I mess it up?” He asked sheepishly.

“No,” She answered honestly, “I think you made it better. People sometimes write their wishes on pieces of parchment and set those on fire in hopes that it will come true. I bet the fire made your wish all the more powerful.”

“Good.” Omen’s smile now spread unabashedly across his face. “Now it’s your turn.”

Madigan looked affectionately over at the demon next to her, closed her eyes, and tossed the coin over her shoulder.


	2. A Surprise

“How much further?”

“Not far!”

Madigan sighed as she let the warm hand in hers pull her ahead. Omen told her that he wanted to show her a surprise, which is how she found herself being guided blindfolded through town. She knew she must look ridiculous, but for some reason when she was with Omen she didn’t really care. She found that… odd.

“Okay, we are here.” She felt a quick, gentle kiss on her nose as hands worked at the knitted fabric behind her head. She blinked at the sudden brightness and took in her surroundings.

“It’s… the lake.” Madigan tried to keep the confusion and disappointment out of her voice—when an ancient and powerful being tells you that they have a special surprise for you, you tend to expect more than the smelly body of water that you see every single day.

“Yes! Come, look.” Omen reached into his satchel and pulled out a loaf of bread with an excited look on his face as he strolled over to the congregation of ducks by the water’s edge. They seemed to recognize him, or at least what he carried in his hands, waddling over and quacking eagerly.

“Look, look what they do when you throw some in the water!”

Madigan hung back and watched as he tossed a few pieces into the water, relatively gently given his unfathomable strength. She couldn’t help but laugh at the look of pure joy on his face when he turned back to see if she was looking. As she took in the sight of him happily feeding the ducks, Madigan tried to see this spot through his eyes—the turquoise blue color of the water in the sun, the way the light dances across the surface, the graceful flapping of wings. It really was stunning. Finding the wonder in every day things, maybe it was a special surprise he had gifted her after all.

A sudden warmth against her skin pulled her out of her thoughts, and she looked down to find Omen’s tail wrapped around her wrist. He shot her a toothy smile over his shoulder as he pulled her forward towards the ducks.“Madi, you try.”

Were it anyone else she would’ve politely declined, but how could she disappoint him, this curious demon whose eyes light up at the smallest thing? Madigan gave him a warm smile as she accepted the piece of bread he handed her and started to throw some down to the awaiting ducks. Her heart swelled with affection as she watched Omen crouch down, trying to coax a duck into taking bread directly from his hand. She was falling so deeply, so impossibly in love with him.

_Shit._


	3. Loss

The wind whistled through the trees and the bite of the Lunaris winter was in the air. It was the coldest night of the year and most of the villagers had gone home to seek refuge from the bitterness outdoors, but one hooded figure stood motionless at the edge of the forest.

It had been snowing for quite some time, but the blood stain on the ground was still visible. Madigan couldn’t take her eyes off it even if she wanted to. What she truly wanted was to scream, to cry, to throw herself onto the ground. But instead she stood as still as death itself, staring as the crimson mark faded slowly into white.

She sensed a pulse of warmth in the air before she felt the arms that wrapped around her waist.

“Madi.”

“Hi, Omen,” Madigan replied as she took her hood off, voice cracking slightly from disuse. He wordlessly nuzzled into her neck, his skin feeling like fire against hers and providing a small comfort.

After a few moments, Omen broke the silence, “It—“

“Please, don’t,” she protested. “Please don’t tell me that it wasn’t my fault, what happened today. I can’t take one more person telling me that it wasn’t my fault.”

“I was going to say ‘it’s cold’.” He said softly.

“Oh.” Madigan could feel her wind burnt cheeks turn even more red.

“But I won’t tell you that if you don’t want me to.” Instead he pressed a soft kiss to her jaw as she placed her hands on his arms and pulled them tighter around her.

“I’m supposed to be the one who protects them.” Madigan whispered after a few silent minutes. She turned to face him, looking into his warm brown eyes. “That woman has—had—a family and now she’s dead. There are three small children who no longer have a mother because I couldn’t save her.” A tear that she had been fighting to hold back tumbled down her cheek. Another battle lost.

Omen leaned in and gently brushed his lips against the tear. In spite of everything, Madigan’s heart gave a small leap. He placed more delicate kisses on her nose, chin, cheek, lips, each one feeling like little flames licking her skin, warming up her insides that had felt frozen for hours.

“You are brave, saeraes. You are strong and clever. But nobody can protect everyone, not even you. You’ll save the next one, like you’ve saved countless others before.”

She nodded, leaning into his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. The two remained in a tight embrace, not even feeling the snow swirling around them, covering the evidence of the day’s loss.


	4. Prize

Training at the center was dull. The forest provided a better, more realistic opportunity, especially when you have an actual demon involved.

Or so Madigan would tell August when she had to report back to them about why she spent the entire day in the woods with Omen.

“Too slow, Madi!” The demon called as he evaded her grasp for what felt like the hundredth time. She let out a breathless laugh as she turned in place trying to pinpoint his new location. He moved unbelievably fast, she swore sometimes that he could vanish out of thin air. She spotted him on the other side of the meadow and broke out in a full sprint in his direction, only for him to slip away once again.

It was time for a new strategy. She bent over, hands on her knees as she exaggeratedly tried to catch her breath. She could feel the air around her vibrating with heat as he slowly approached from behind. When she could sense that he was almost on her, Madigan whirled around, gripping his shirt with one hand and lifting her sword up to his neck with the other.

“Got you,” she said with a smirk, lowering her trusted weapon.

“You win!” Omen announced with a bright smile.

“Oh yeah? Well, what’s my prize?” Madigan licked her lips and leaned forward, but stopped when she saw the thoughtful look on his face. His tail twitched behind him as his chestnut eyes scanned the forest around them.

“Hold on,” He abruptly took off towards the direction of the tree line. “And close your eyes!” He added over his shoulder.

Madigan stood alone in the clearing, eyes closed—She felt a bit ridiculous, not to mention vulnerable. As a hunter, she never liked to knowingly deprive herself of one of her senses, especially when out in these woods. She trusted Omen and knew that he would never let anything happen to her, but the longer she waited, the more on edge she became.

“Okay, open them!” Madigan let out a scream and quickly slapped her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t heard him approaching at all.

Omen winced, “Sorry. But look!” He lifted up a crown of daisies. “It’s your prize! I thought the colors would look pretty with your hair.” He added, a light blush forming on his cheeks. Madigan suspected she had a matching blush of her own. She took the flower crown in her hands and as she studied the carefully tied together daisies, she felt a swell of affection that nearly brought tears to her eyes. She had received countless extravagant gifts in her life, but none of them had ever made her feel quite like this.

She placed it on her head, gently draping it around her messy bun. “How do I look?”

Omen stepped forward and cupped her face in his hands, the intensity in his eyes taking her breath away, “You are beautiful, saeraes.”

Like a magnet, she felt herself pulled closer, closer until her lips were on his. The heat of his skin against hers, the taste and smell of cinnamon—her senses were pleasurably overwhelmed. She opened her mouth to deepen this kiss, weaving her fingers in his hair as he pulled her flush against him.

All pretense of training was quickly forgotten.


	5. Uncertainty

Tracking had always come easily for Madigan, and now was no different. She instinctively moved through the outskirts of town, following that distinctive scent, the warm energy lingering in the cold winter air.

 _There._  She had spotted her target. She took a slow step forward, carefully hiding her hand–evidence of the injury from their last encounter–inside her cloak, and spoke softly as to not startle the demon; the last thing she wanted was for him to run. “Omen.”

He whirled around, wide eyes back to their normal warm chestnut shade but body posture no less skittish than when she had seen him the other day.

“Oh, Madigan.” Her heart dropped slightly at his use of her full name, as opposed to the shortened nickname he had taken to calling her, but she shook it off

“You’re avoiding me.” She said, getting straight to the point.

“I’m not,” he protested, refusing to meet her eyes, “I’m just…”

“Avoiding me” Madigan finished for him.

He winced, tail twitching. “Er, well, yes.”

“Omen, you don’t need to. What happened was…”

“I never wanted that to happen,” Omen cut her off, voice quiet but insistent as he finally raised his gaze to hers. “Being like that, it’s scary. And it scared you too.”

She opened her mouth to object but stopped when she took in the despondent look in those ordinarily bright brown eyes. She had seen the flames, gotten a glimpse of the true demon form beneath his glamour, and it  _had_ scared her. So much so that she reached for her sword, and he had noticed. It was instinct. Madigan would never hurt Omen, and she knew in her heart that he would never purposely hurt her either. Even so…

Swallowing thickly, she nodded, “It did.”

The silence that followed was deafening, so Madigan forced a weak smile onto her face and continued. “But it’s not a big deal. I can get pretty scary too, sometimes. You should see me after I’ve spoken with my brother…”

She trailed off. He usually smiled at her jokes, even when she knew he didn’t understand them, but his face remained serious, eyes shifting once more to the ground between them. Omen’s body was tense, she could tell he was getting ready to flee.

Desperate for him to stay, she quietly asked, “Did you find her? The one you were looking for?”

He looked startled, as if he had forgotten he told Madigan about this, and slowly nodded his head. She waited, curious if he would elaborate further, but as suspected he said nothing. Another awkward silence.

She took a step towards him, testing the waters, and when he didn’t flinch away, she spoke. “Well, now that you’ve completed your mission, would you want to get a drink? We can even get hot chocolate, I won’t tell.” She added with a smile, but it was met with a look of concern.

“Madigan.” Her full name again, she noted. “I like you. I like spending time with you.”

“I like spending time with you too,” she said softly, causing a blush to rise in his cheeks, “But…”

“But…” He continued with a sigh, “You’re a human. A  _Hunter_. And I’m…”

“A demon.” She whispered. He nodded; he looked so unbearably sad, she wanted nothing more than to reach out and take him in her arms, but she thought better of it.

“So… what then?” She scoffed, attempting to cover the way her voice shook.

“I don’t know. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Madigan scratched at her hairline, subconsciously trying to hide the eyes that were quickly filling with tears. She realized her mistake a moment too late.

Though she wouldn’t have thought it possible, Omen’s eyes grew even wider as he took in the sight of her bandaged hand, the expression on his face pained.

“I–is… Did I…” he shook his head, swiftly backing up a few steps as his tail whipped behind him, “I have to go.”

“Omen, wait,” Madigan pleaded, “please wait.” But with one final look, he was gone.

She didn’t realize the tears had fallen until she saw the spots on the ground where her hot tears melted the snow.


	6. An Unexpected Guest

The wall of the tavern felt cold against her back as Madigan was pushed up against it, but Omen’s hungry kisses kept her more than warm enough.

“Easy now,” she laughed breathlessly as his hands slid down her thighs, “we’re _so_ close to my room, it’s just a little further.”

He grabbed her hand without hesitation and pulled her giggling inside the Wolf. However, the sight of an all too familiar figure sitting at a table near the door stopped her in her tracks.

“Connell!” Madigan gasped, dropping Omen’s hand. She caught a quick flash of hurt on the demon’s face. “What are you doing here?”

Even in the unfamiliar surroundings of the tavern, Connell Rourke gave off the air of owning the room. His navy hair and expensive clothes were miraculously tidy after what was doubtlessly a long journey, and his Enforcer’s sash was bright and positioned visibly for all to see. 

“Can’t a man visit his beloved sister?” Connell asked, eyebrows raising in a performative disbelief.

Madigan responded with a cold, wordless stare.

“So it’s true then,” he continued, mouth quirking upward back to his signature smirk, “little Madigan’s got herself a pet demon.”

She could see a dark, embarrassed blush forming in Omen’s cheeks, his tail twitching sharply behind him.

“Connell…” She warned, her voice low.

“Where did you come from, then? And how did you come to meet my sister?”

“That is none of your business,” Madigan snapped.

“Mind your manners, Mads, I believe I was speaking to the demon. It _can_ speak, can’t it?”

If Madigan had been the one who could catch fire, the entire inn would be ablaze.

“How dare y—” She stepped furiously towards him but Omen grabbed her arm, holding her back.

“Yes,” Omen said calmly, “I can speak.”

“Most impressive, well done.” Connell’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “What other tricks do you have, hmm? They must really be something for Madigan here to risk everything she’s been working for her entire life.”

She wanted to tell him that Omen was no ordinary demon, that the creature he was mocking was the Prince of Hell, but somehow she didn’t think that would help matters. Instead she smiled. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

She turned back towards the demon, her gaze already softening at the sight of him. “Omen, I’ve got this. Go on upstairs, I’ll meet you there when I’m finished.”

His wide eyes flashed red, but he nodded quickly. “If you certain, _gaon aera_.”

She nodded in return, giving his hand a quick squeeze. Omen made his way towards the stairs, keeping his eyes fixed on Connell the entire way.

“Take a seat, dear sister.” Connell said cheerfully once Omen had gone, “I’ve taken the liberty of getting you a drink. The wine selection in this shithole is abysmal, so I just ordered the most expensive glass on the menu. I didn’t think you’d mind, you’ve always had more… _common_ tastes.”

Madigan scoffed at the glass of red wine on the table as she sunk into the chair across from her brother, and reached for his glass of whiskey, bringing it slowly to her lips. “What the hell are you doing in Lunaris, Connell?”

“Mother and father sent me. They wanted me to talk some sense into you.” He shook his head slowly in mock disappointment, but his dark brown eyes were alight with glee. “What happened to you, Madigan? You were supposed to be the golden child. Our parents were always _so_ _proud_ of their Hunter General daughter. But first there was the incident in Maspeth and now? Here you are, having your bed warmed by a demon. I hate to tell you, Mads, but they are _very_ disappointed.”

Madigan’s hand tightened on the glass, but she took a slow breath in through her nose. He wanted her riled up. “I don’t care what mother and father think.”

“Yes, you do. That’s your problem, sister, that has always been your problem. You care too much about what everyone thinks of you.”

She looked down at the table, unable to argue.

“Now look at you,” he continued, “you’re making a fool out of all of us, gallivanting around with that _thing_.”

“Do not. Call him that.” Madigan’s voice shook slightly with rage.

“What, a thing? That is exactly what he is. You may have deluded yourself into thinking of him as some sort of person or, heaven forbid, your little  _boyfriend_ , but I know better. He’s not a man, he’s a demon.”

“He’s more of a man than you’ll ever be,” she snapped. “And we’re done here.”

Madigan leapt to her feet, chair sliding back, but before she could walk away, Connell’s hand shot out and grabbed her wrist. Fast as a blink, Madigan unsheathed the blade strapped to her thigh, thrusting it into the table just centimeters from his other hand. For the first time possibly in her entire life, she saw Connell’s eyes flash with fear.

“I said we’re done.” He let go of her wrist and she stormed up the stairs, certain she had not seen the last of her brother.

* * *

Madigan pushed the door to her room open with with a rage filled ferocity, causing Omen to jump. She softened, feeling guilty for having startled the already skittish demon.

“Madi, are you—“

Wordlessly, she launched herself into his arms, feeling the last of her anger dissipate as they tightened around her, radiating warmth.

“I love you, Omen,” she whispered for the first time.

“I love you too, Madigan.”


	7. Selcouth

This wasn’t the first time Madigan Rourke found herself flat on her back, pinned beneath a demon. This _was_ , however, the first time that said demon had been fast asleep. She didn’t mind, though. In fact, she didn’t mind so thoroughly that she hardly felt the scratchy sheets beneath her, didn’t hear the sounds of the town beginning their day in the early morning — the normal things that made sleeping in her room at the Wolf so damn hard. All of her senses were fully occupied by the otherworldly creature sprawled out directly on top of her.

Nearly every inch of her was covered by him — she felt pleasantly scorched the places they met, like sliding into a hot bath after a long day. He _was_ fire and after so long feeling nothing but cold, Madigan welcomed the heat.

She was surrounded by the scent of him, she drowned in it — not sulfur like most demons she encountered, but roses. His lips tasted of cinnamon, though she could’ve sworn they were made of a more potent spice. Her skin still tingled every place those lips had touched.

His breathing was soft and steady as he rested his head against her, his silken hair splayed about her chest. She traced her finger along his still-glowing back, writing the words she would put to pen and paper as soon as she got a chance. Everything about Omen was poetry, he made the words come easy.

She lightly brushed the hair off his forehead, admiring the golden marks there. Though she burned with curiosity, she did not ask about them, nor the ones on his back. She trusted Omen, and knew he would tell her in his own time. He needed patience, and she had it to spare. As she lightly scratched his scalp, he let out a small noise of contentment deep in his throat. Even the sounds he made were exotic.

His eyes fluttered open and found hers straightaway. She wasn’t surprised to find them alert as always. Their ordinarily chestnut brown color was tinged with red, as if he was too tired, too comfortable to fully commit to his glamour. She could lose herself in them, trying to identify every shade.

Madigan leaned in and pressed her lips to his forehead, putting everything into the kiss that she couldn’t quite say out loud.

_I love you, I love you._


	8. Birthday

“Right this way… careful now…” Madigan steadily guided Omen up the tavern stairs, one hand resting firmly on his shoulder, the other covering his eyes. Used to being the one lead blindly around, it was finally her turn to surprise him.

His tail moved from where it rested loosely on her waist to wrap around her wrist, giving it a squeeze. Momentarily distracted by this affectionate move, she didn’t notice right away that her hand was being slowly, _slowly_ pulled away from his eyes.

“ _Hey!_ ” She protested, tightening her grip, “I never try to peek when you want to show _me_ surprises.”

“I am a demon, Madi,” he needlessly explained with a dramatic huff of breath, “I cannot be good all the time.”

Madigan rolled her eyes but couldn’t keep the smile from her face. She leaned in, brushing her lips ever so slightly against his ear, feeling his sharp intake of breath as she whispered, “If you behave now, I’ll let you be as bad as you want later. Deal?”

The demon swallowed thickly and nodded, “Deal.”

“Good,” she pushed open the door to her room, “because we’re just… about… here. Ta-da!”

She removed her hand from his eyes, watching in delight as he took in the sight before him. A small cake sat atop the table in her room, decorated with tiny pieces of chocolate spelling out  _Omen_ in the vanilla frosting.

“Happy Birthday, zes haewa.” Madigan said, stumbling slightly over the exotic language despite the considerable time she spent practicing.

A beaming Omen looked over at her, the pure adoration radiating from those wide eyes, taking her breath away.

“Thank you, saeraes.” His warm hand grabbed hers, squeezing tightly.

“I, um, I got you something,” she dropped her gaze as she handed him the wrapped box that was on the table next to the cake. “A gift.”

“What is it?” He asked, peering at it curiously.

She let out a laugh. “Open it and see!”

Blackened fingertips gently worked at the red paper, trying to remove it without tearing it. He then opened the box, looking inquisitively at the piece of gold jewelry that lay inside.

“It’s a charm bracelet,” she explained. “May I?”

Omen nodded, not taking his eyes off of her, and Madigan gently fastened the bracelet to his wrist, letting her fingers linger against his skin for a long moment.

“The charms represent things that are meaningful for the wearer. I got you a few to start out.” She tapped the charm of a half moon. “This one represents Lunaris. And the crystal is for Ezra, I got it at his shop. This wolf, of course, is for Alkar,”

“And this,” she stroked the charm of a broadsword, a small sapphire the color of her hair placed in the hilt.

“That’s you,” Omen finished. Madigan nodded, the ghost of a smile on her lips. When she spoke again, her voice shook slightly.

“I know you’ve lived a long life, unfathomably long. And I won’t…” she swallowed, letting the silence finish the thought she couldn’t bear speak aloud, “but I thought this could be a way to keep me with you, to keep all of us with you, always.”

She could see the faint, orange glow radiating from his heart as she finally raised her eyes to meet his. Their normal chestnut color had darkened considerably, and they were displaying a rapid succession of emotions—gratitude, concern, tranquility, pain, hope, _love_. He ever so gently placed his hands on the side of her face, leaning his forehead against hers.

“I always feel you with me, gaon aera,” he said softly, his eyes closed, “but I am thankful to now have a reminder.”

She tilted her head and kissed him, softly at first, but growing more urgent with each passing moment. His hands moved to her hips, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss still.

“Madi, I…” he whispered, breath hot against her lips, before pulling back with a smile, “I really want to try that cake.”

Madigan laughed, pressing a long kiss to his temple as Omen began to cut the cake.


	9. Rain

She ignored the first drop, thinking maybe she could ward off the oncoming downpour through sheer force of will. But by the second, third, fourth drops she knew it was time to admit defeat. Madigan squeezed the warm hand in hers and lead Omen quickly beneath the awning of a nearby building, barely making it before the sky opened up.

She watched him watch the rain, his big, curious eyes looking on in excitement as it hammered the cobbled street. He moved to take a step out from their makeshift shelter, but Madigan’s hand shot out reflexively.

“Wait!” She cried, catching him by the shirt. “Will you be okay? Are you… are you going to…” Madigan’s cheeks burned as soon as she realized the ridiculousness of the question.

“I’m not a candle, Madi,” Omen laughed charmingly, gently detaching her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. “The rain won’t put me out. Now, come on.”

She hesitated, biting her lip. “I’ll look like a wet dog.”

“Biscuit looks very cute when she’s wet, I bet you will too.” His lips twitched as he fought back a smile, “besides, I’ve seen you covered in dirt, blood, and mysterious creature guts. Would you not say that’s worse?”

Madigan let out a surprised laugh. “I suppose you have a point,” she conceded, and let him guide her out into the street.

She stood shivering with her arms crossed, already regretting her decision as the rain quickly soaked her to the bone. Still, she felt some of that reluctance slip away as she watched Omen. An unexpected smile played on her lips as he stretched out his arms and started spinning in circles, his wet ponytail flinging droplets as he whipped around. She wondered how he managed to make even the most unpleasant situations seem new and exciting.

He stopped spinning and strode up to her, placing his hands on either side of her face, bringing their lips together. She opened her mouth slightly, running her tongue along his bottom lip, the taste of the fresh water mixing with something that was inherently him making her head spin. His tail wrapped securely around her waist, as if sensing that she needed the extra stability. As he deepened the kiss, Madigan stopped feeling the rain, her awareness limited to only Omen.

He pulled back, letting his hands slide down her arms, warming her through the now soaked fabric of her clothes, and studied her face intently.

“See?” He said, his expression somewhere between teasing and pure adoration, “I was right.  _Very_ cute.”

Madigan scoffed but found herself unable to roll her eyes, for that would mean having to tear them from his for even a second. “ _You_ are.”

She slid her hands up his now slick chest, stopping to clutch his lapels, and batted her lashes, attempting to look seductive in spite of the raindrops running into her eyes. “How about you and I head back to the Wolf, hmm? I need to get out of these wet clothes.”

Madigan grinned delightedly as Omen’s face turned the exact shade of red she had hoped, the drops of rain turning to steam where they touched the flickers of fire that appeared on the ends of his hair. As an answer, he pressed one more quick peck to her lips before grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the tavern with such urgency that she had to run to keep up, her laughter audible even over the sound of the rain thudding against the ground.


	10. Fade (NSFW)

Hell may be hot but its prince was hotter; his hands scorched every place that they touched, trailing from her face to her breasts to her hips, his thumb lingering on the scar on her stomach. Madigan trembled, the spots where she couldn’t feel him suddenly seeming too cold. **  
**

_He is the sun_  was the only cohesive thought that came to her mind. Her heartbeat raced as she studied the Demon beneath her, eyes brushing over every exposed inch of skin. Omen was alight from the flames that burned within, and each roll of her hips made him glow brighter still. He was  _made_  from fire, and she would happily be consumed.

She knew his fires came straight from hell, but looking at him, she could hardly believe it. Omen’s light seemed nothing short of celestial. He was so beautiful, his silken hair splayed out on the pillow, it almost hurt to look at him for too long.

“Open your eyes, zes haewa,” he said, a gentle command. “Look at me.”

She snapped them back open, gaze finding his. Those delightful, curious eyes were dark, aflame, and fixed on her, observing her as carefully as he did the human behavior in town, more so.

Madigan felt his blackened fingertips digging into her skin, gripping her hips tighter as he guided her movements faster. She was caught in his orbit, each motion mirroring his. Whispers dripped from his lips in a language she didn’t understand. She was grateful; she thought she might burst if her heart became any more full. Her hand on his chest was as much to as to steady herself as to reassure herself that he was real, he was here, he was  _hers_. The squeeze of the tail wrapped around her wrist let her know that he was thinking the same.

The frenzy of touches, thrusts, moans became too much: Madigan let out a cry as she lost herself to bliss, Omen following shortly behind. She collapsed forward on top of him, both of them breathing heavily. Turning to rest her cheek against his warm chest, she watched with soft eyes the flames beneath his skin flicker and fade.

 


	11. Transformed

Madigan could feel the stares of strangers boring into the back of her skull, but she ignored them. What a strange feeling it was to not care what others thought, possibly for the first time in her life. Still, she could see the uncertainty in Omen’s eyes as they darted around the square, sitting on the edge of the bench, poised to make an escape at any moment. She gently touched his face, bringing his attention back to her, and gave him the most reassuring smile she could manage. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out one of the variety of hot peppers they had purchased at the market earlier and raised an eyebrow.

“This one.”

Sufficiently distracted, he granted her the smallest of smiles, “I told you Madi, it is not going to affect me.”

“Humor me,” she prodded, bumping her shoulder against his, “try it.”

He leaned forward and took a bite straight out of her hand, never taking his eyes from hers. Her breath caught in her throat as his warm lips brushed her fingertips, his long teeth scraping their sides.

His expression was smug as he pulled back, swallowing the pepper without as much as a wince.

“See?” He asked, black tongue coming out to lick his lips in emphasis. Madigan eye rolled her eyes in response but couldn’t quite force her grin into a scowl like she wanted.

“Okay fine, but how about…” she dug out another pepper and dangled it teasingly in front of him, “this one?”

As he moved in towards her once more, Madigan pulled the pepper back and caught his lips with hers, kissing him right out in the open without a second thought. As she deepened the kiss, she let out a small gasp. Though the pepper may have been nothing to the Demon, Madigan’s mouth felt aflame from simply tasting it on his tongue. Instead of pulling away, she just kissed him more, relishing the feel of fire.

Omen pulled back after a long moment, pressing his forehead against hers as her lips tingled.

“Madi?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have that pepper now?” 

Madigan laughed, offering it up to him as she nuzzled the crook of his neck. Since when was she the type to nuzzle at all, let alone in public? But the heat radiating off his skin on this brisk day was too inviting, or so she told herself.

Even so, she couldn’t deny that here, next to him, she felt happy. She felt free.


End file.
